Villain
by AlmightyT
Summary: One shot. Songfic to Hedley's 'Villain.' Draco and Hermione have crossed the line. What can become of this?


_I'm so cold and so far away from home_

_You're so tired and so damn alone_

_It's darker and much harder to be me_

_So far away from my reality _

There's just something so not right about her and me. Light and Dark. Love and hate. Strength and weakness. We're the opposite of each other, the other's absolute faults, and the part the other tries so hard to hide. Like I've already said, we are a couple miles away from being right.

Honestly, I can't even tell you when we truly had crossed the line that separated blinding hate from...something else. But we crossed it, or rather I did, dragging her kicking and screaming along with me. And, I didn't just step over the aforementioned line. No, as a Malfoy, I bulldozed the line, creating a black hole to take up the spot that used to be occupied by my common sense. Hers too, I suppose.

And I tripped, not fell, like so many loves stories are about. I stumbled, leaving everything I'd ever believed behind for a few moments of insanity. Moments I found myself looking forwards to all day long. When I once again regained my senses, like someone standing up after tripping over a tree root, slightly shaken and breathing deep, shaky breaths, I couldn't believe what I'd done. It wasn't me. I tried to convince myself, over and over again, but someone else, someone acting through me. Confused like the typical seventeen-year-old boy I was, I did the only thing that made sense.

I avoided her, of course.

I could almost pretend what we'd had never happened. Almost.

I am actually pretty good at pretending, when I want to be. But, a part of me wouldn't let me forget my...mistake. Our mistake. It was hers too, which she knew, judging by the glances I caught every once in a while. Her hazel eyes -not brown like so many think-were glazed over, while she remembered the one time she forgot who she was. And who I was…who I am.

_I hate the way you look, I'm looking back_

_I hate the way I look, You're looking too_

_I think maybe I'm falling_

_And you kiss me like you know the inside of me_

_And you watch me fight my own insanity_

_And I feel like I'm a villain Jesus_

_Said would never ever leave us_

_And I'm stronger now that I ever was before_

She tried to talk to me, once in the corridor. Actually, I still think of it as Our Hallway, because it was in that hallway that our 'relationship,' (if you could call it that,) began. One of our impassioned arguments turning into something else; something just as passionate, just as fierce. Anyway, I've strayed pretty far off topic. Back to her talking to me.

She walked right up to me, brown hair bobbing up and down in a very frizzed-out and annoying way. She stopped, directly in front of Crabbe and me. But Crabbe might as well have not been there, because as soon as she got within five feet of me, it felt as though it was only her and me in Our Hallway. Hell, in the entire school even, rather than in front of our entire Transfiguration class.

'Malfoy, I think you and I need to talk.'

Well, I bet you can guess what I did right then. (Also, romantics are advised to quit reading about...now.)

'About what, Granger? What could I possibly have to discuss with a Mudblood like you?'

Now, Hermione Granger definitely deserves a big, shiny cookie for bravery. Or maybe it was stupidity. Whatever her reasons were, she squared her shoulders, and looked me directly in the eyes. I nearly puked, by the way.

'Don't pretend you don't know Malfoy. Don't pretend you have no idea what's happened. Now, come and talk with me.'

Every true romantic person who ignored my last warning and is still reading this is currently praying that I agreed to talk to Granger, and we skipped McGonagall's class and had a heart-to-heart. But, alas, that simply wasn't the case.

'But Granger, I don't want to. Actually, I don't ever want to talk to you. Got that?'

She cracked then. I mean all out snapped, as in raving lunatic snapped.

With thick, gooey tears in her eyes, the silly little girl threw her arms around me and kissed me. And the world stopped. My breathing stopped. I died right there.

Wishful thinking.

She pulled away from me, leaving me speechless, breathless and with her tears staining my face. Turning away, she calmly said the one word that shall haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life:

'Fine.'

And that was it.

_You think I never could have seen it all_

_It seems you want me to just watch me fall_

_Your fingers and your lips are beautiful_

_Your fingers and your lips are killing me_

_I hate the way you look, I'm looking back_

_I hate the way I look, you're looking too_

_I think maybe I'm just falling _

Of course, she never attended Transfiguration that day. I would have skipped too, but McGonagall appeared just as soon as Granger was around the corner of Our Hallway and ushered all of the remaining startled and speechless students into her classroom.

I endured three weeks of merciless teasing from the entire Slytherin House. Then, I graduated and immediately joined the Death Eaters. I spent two years serving the Dark Lord, until the day he suddenly dropped dead. Turned out the Potter had found the final Horcruxe. Bugger.

I spent four years in Azkaban, and it was only after 'donating' a couple million galleons to the Ministry that I was able to escape the prison, as well as a very unpleasant death. But, again I am off topic. We're getting to the really good part now.

I spent a couple of months wandering around the streets of the wizarding world, living off what respect the Malfoy name still had, and the pity of the shop owners who hadn't known me in school. All they could see when a fair young man approached them, begging for a job, was his defeated expression. I worked a few odd jobs, earning just enough to stay off the streets. The jobs never lasted long though, because someone who had known me before or during Azkaban would recognize me, and well, when the boss found out who I was, I'd be sacked.

So one night, in the middle of a rainstorm, I'd again found myself wandering about, jobless and depressed.

The most sadistic of you wouldn't believe where I am. Honestly, I can't believe where I am now. I think I might hurl (again, I know, but I have a very weak stomach.).

I'm in her living room, dripping all over her pretty Persian rug. Her husband is in the other room, sleeping, as far as I can tell. She's fixing me a cup of tea.

I couldn't even tell you why I'm here. I think it's because I can finally see what I did wrong, that day before class. What I did wrong with us, what it was that made us so not right. She snapped, I didn't. She fell, I tripped. And it's only taken me around six years to figure out what's not right about the two of us. While she figured it out really fast, I stumbled around, denying.

I love her.

It's just not right. And I think she knew it, even in the beginning.

I've snapped

_I'm stronger than I've ever been_

_I'm stronger than before_

_But you kiss me like you know it all _


End file.
